Buried Within
A Poem Written March 2008
Buried Within March 2008 David C. Roberson Do you find yourself in the breeze of springtime coming with the Devil close behind and the Lord from Heaven calling to the sinners, and you know that you can't be excluded since the darkness in your soul always makes you feel secluded? One in the morning as the weed hangs from your fingers and the flame is waiting as your thumb on the flint wheel lingers, and you know if you stopped you would feel a thousand times better, but the tar tastes good as you read her faux love letters. Buried within conviction and sin and the looks from society won't change. She calls you up in the middle of a revolution, the natives are restless and are guided by their mass confusion, and the romance of the fight in your mind is so appealing so you promise to call her back when it's love you're feeling. Sidewinders and the shallows of the human condition will evolve to a plateau of peace in their premonitions. But it's all lies—there's nothing in a man's thin vision that implicates a righteous cause in his day's decisions. Buried within conviction and sin and the face of society won't change. Sleep so bad you can wake from the sound of silence. You wish to God you could fit Him into your sad science, but people say the Big Bang came without that sentience that stabs you in the gut till you seek divine repentance. Holy rollers roam with their hands shoved in their pockets, jerkin' Jesus out 'round town like a dime-store locket, and you wish you could be that loose with your sound salvation but you fear that your words will become a tired religion. Buried within conviction and sin they swear that the Son can bring change. Honey baby, back on down into life's derision. I can't give you hope, just a difference of opinion. I can tell you God is the Father and His Son's blood cleanses, but you have to accept that His love overpowers this prison. Buried within conviction and sin Heaven knows that nothing here will change.